Disrobed
by madaboutalice123
Summary: Behind the gowns and wigs, they lead ordinary lives. An unrelated series of AUish scenes and fics about our favourite characters.
1. Chapter 1

**AN - Well, hello again! I can't believe I have left it so long to post anything, but it's mostly been a case of not having a single idea finished and not having any time. But here we are again. I think this series will be mostly AU stories and ideas I've conjured up, you'll be able to work out the AU-ness fairly easily I would say!  
** **So, just to get us started, a new take on something familiar! I guess this could be called a drabble because of the length, but basically it's just short! Happy reading! Ax.**

* * *

"I love you".

"Say that again".

"I love you Clive".

She smiled. He blinked, paused, turned away. Walked towards the exit. She followed; he knew she would.

Side by side they leaned against the wall, inches between them. His head tilted down towards her, hers looking up to him.

"Really Marth?"

"Yes".

She nodded. Bit her lip a little. He smiled. Closed the gap to kiss her.

His hands were in her hair, around her waist, dipping under the hem of her shirt. Hers pushed his jacket away, curled over his shoulders, pulled

him impossibly closer.

A bell chimed; 1 new message. They parted, unwillingly.

Speech in 5.

He ignored it, kissed her again.

Where are you?

"You go, your moment".

"Come with me".

His hand around hers. Her shoulder bumping his as they walked.

They stopped in the archway, eyed each other. His jacket forgotten, her shirt untucked. It was obvious what they'd been doing.

"I love you too".

She smiled. Squeezed his hand. Stood back while he made his speech.

Side by side again, fingers linked, a silent announcement.


	2. Ede and Ravenscroft

AN - One of the more famous barristers in the country has been in the (legal) news again today, which reminded me of a little thing I wrote when she last popped up on our news pages and inspired me to write something. Instead of making up characters when I need them, I have shamelessly borrowed from other TV shows, if you can spot them! This is just a little thing for fun and entertainment, and I hope you like it. I promise more and hopefully bigger things soon, as well as keeping up the drip-feed of one-shots. Ax.

* * *

"And what are you wearing for court today Miss Costello?"

The question was out of the blue and it threw Martha as she crossed the robing room to her locker. The rooms other occupants were laughing, she had heard them from down the hallway and still didn't know why. While most of the QCs got along outside the courtrooms, it was slightly unusual for everyone in the robing room to be talking and laughing together and she couldn't help but be slightly suspicious of the subject matter.

She frowned and looked at CW over her shoulder as she slipped her suit jacket off and put it on a hanger in her locker, "What?"

The older barrister rolled her eyes, "Have you completely missed the news Martha?"

"Clearly," she shot her friend a pointed look but assumed from CW's light tone that she wasn't talking about news that was worthy of The Times, "What have I missed?"

* * *

Jocelyn handed over a slightly crumpled copy of The Guardian and said, "Our terribly famous colleague Mrs Clooney appears not only at a-list parties, but also on the fashion pages and front pages of newspapers".

Martha scanned the picture on the page that the paper had ben folded to show and vaguely read a few lines of the article with a snort of laughter, "Touché". She left the paper on the table and turned to carry on getting ready, "That's gonna be question of the week then".

"Already is," Jocelyn pointed out lightly, "It'll keep us amused for ages I'm sure". She checked the clock and picked up her wig and a stack of files, "I'm off. See you later for another fashion convention".

A round of goodbyes, good-lucks and fuck-I'm-late's followed her departure as other barristers realised the time and within a few minutes the room was almost empty.

"I'm delayed fifteen minutes," CW fished around in her voluminous handbag with a sigh, "Cigarette?"

Having checked her watch to see how much spare time she had, Martha accepted the proffered item and turned to haul the sash window up so they could lean out and avoid setting the fire alarm off.

* * *

As Martha walked along the corridor Clive appeared beside her, presumably having just left a meeting room, and fell in step as they walked. "Which courtroom?"

"Three. You?"

"Sixteen".

Martha pulled a sympathetic face, "Bit hot on a day like this".

"Tell me about it. Been in there all week, far too warm," he groaned and shifted his robes on his shoulders, already feeling the heat of the August sun through the windows.

She nudged him, his action reminding her of the conversations in the robing room, "So, what are you wearing for court today Mr Reader?"

Clive smiled, "Ridiculous isn't it".

"Very, but it's nicer to have something to laugh at than the usual news" she agreed, "This is me, see you later".

He caught her arm before she turned away, a smirk hovering on his lips as he asked in a low voice, "I'd rather know what you're wearing under your robes".

Before she could answer or swat at him, he winked and slipped into the stream of people walking through the Great Hall, leaving her shaking her head but unable to conceal her smile.

* * *

Back in the robing room, Martha was shrugging the heavy black material off her shoulders when the door creaked open and Clive entered.

"Alright?" she asked as he dropped his armful of papers and files onto the table with a sigh.

He studied her as she finished de-robing, and she narrowed her eyes at him, arms out wide, "See? It's nothing terribly exciting".

Her fingers made quick work of the buttons on the front of her court jacket and then the collar underneath, draping it all over a hanger to put back on after lunch.

Clive moved away to strip his own robes off, but when he turned back to ask her something, his eyes fell to her white shirt, fitted close to her body as she moved. With her back to him, he realised that it was - "Marth, that's practically see through".

"It's hot," she answered without turning to face him, "It's the lightest shirt I've got".

"Yeah, I'll say," Clive retorted, "I can almost see exactly what you're wearing underneath".

She laughed, "Well, you did want to know".

"I didn't mean everyone else needed to as well!"

At that, she did turn around, one eyebrow arched in a challenge, "What was that?"

The words had fallen from his mouth accidentally, spoken without thought, and the only reply he could come up with was, "It's very red Marth".

Martha rolled her eyes, "Did you expect it to be another colour?"

He had been anticipating something far harsher than that and decided to take another chance with his words. "What does the rest look like?"

"That, you'll have to find out at another time," she flashed him a surprising grin, "I've got to see my client". And she swung her normal suit jacket over her shoulders, effectively covering the subject of their conversation, and reached for her bag.

"Later?" was all he could manage as she opened the door, and the "Maybe," she threw over her shoulder left him able to do nothing other than stand staring at the door she had walked through until Alan walked in.

"You ok Clive?" his head of chambers enquired, a slight frown on his face.

The younger man roused himself to answer, "Yeah. Yeah, it's just the heat. You?"

Alan held up the robes he carried over his arm, "Fine thanks. Judge Wolburn gave up on court dress when the usher nearly fainted. I imagine it will be in all courts by this afternoon".

Clive muttered his relief and as they talked about their respective cases, his mind began to creep back out from what could only be described as the gutter.

* * *

The rest, Clive later discovered, was also red, what little of it there actually was. If it surprised him, he didn't let it show, simply admiring it before removing it and discarding it without a care as to where it fell.

The following day's was a different shade of red, darker and patterned with black. It was hidden beneath a blue shirt and even though the knowledge that he was the only one who would see it was what made Clive smile a little more throughout the day, he would deny it to anyone, including the person wearing it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - Hi all! Rediscovered this little piece I did quite a while ago and thought that sprucing it up a bit and posting would be nice as a little Easterthing (although it's not remotely Easter related!) and to celebrate that I've taken a quarter of my exams for the term! So...happy Easter/bank holiday/weekend, I hope you like it, and would love any messages or reviews! Ax

* * *

"Clive?" Martha looked up from sorting laundry in the kitchen to where Clive was sitting on the sofa and going through paperwork with a highlighter, "How much of your stuff is here?"

He shrugged and answered noncommittally, "Not that much".

"When did you last go back to your flat?" was the next question, slightly more loaded than the last.

"Tuesday," Clive turned around to drape an arm over the back of the sofa and look at her, "Why?"

"Are you moving yourself in by stealth?"

He laughed, "I wouldn't put it like that".

Martha narrowed her eyes at him, "No?"

Clive eased himself off the sofa and came to lean against the counter next to where she stood, "Would it be such a bad thing? I'm here because you're here".

"Soppy idiot," she muttered, folding another shirt, his.

"Maybe," he smiled, but then said seriously, "Honestly, would it be so bad?"

"N...o," she said slowly, "You're always creeping up on me".

Clive lightly walked his fingers up her side until he could pull her against him, her hands falling automatically to rest on his hips, "I don't mean to".

"I didn't mean it in a bad way," Martha tried to explain, "Just that, at every stage it's been sort of, unexpected? When we were pupils I didn't think you'd become the most important person to me, and I never expected to fall in love with you, or to be happy folding your shirts with mine. It's just all appeared and it is a good thing even though I had no idea it would happen".

"I like being here," he reasoned, "And I know we can both be at my flat too, but I prefer being here together. My place hasn't ever really felt like a home, and somehow being here with you does. If that's ok? Or even makes sense".

Martha nodded, "I didn't say I minded, I was just noticing. Sorry".

"Don't be," he said gently, "There's nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who's invading your life and flat".

"I want you to be here".

Clive kissed her lingeringly, "Good, because I wasn't really planning on going elsewhere".

"Hmm, I noticed," Martha leaned back and narrowed her eyes him, "It's Thursday and you've definitely been here more than just last night..." She left the sentence unfinished, having known all along that he hadn't been to back to his flat for over a week.

"I went back on Tuesday!"

"Probably last Tuesday Clive!"

He laughed, "Technically I did go back on Tuesday to pick some things up. I actually think it was last Saturday".

"Oh for gods sake!" she rolled her eyes but was only pretending to be annoyed. "Go and put these away," she handed him a pile of clean laundry, "And you might as well put things in the bottom right drawer, I cleared it out a while ago".

Willingly taking the clothes, Clive winked as he walked backwards towards the bedroom, "I know, where do you think I've been keeping stuff like jumpers?"

Martha merely shook her head, "You're bloody lucky I like you Clive Reader".


	4. Text

AN - I know it's been a while since I've posted, but I've got plenty of things in the pipeline, they just might take a while to be finished and posted. Happy reading and, as always, I'd love to know what you think of this! Ax

* * *

Clive was bored.

Stuck in the public gallery of Peckham Magistrates Court, he

was supposed to be watching the two pupils go against each other in a public nuisance case, or at least that's what he thought it was.

He had been on the way back to chambers after a meeting with the CPS when his mobile had trilled into life and the irritatingly cheerful voice of his senior clerk had informed him that it was his turn to 'watch the kiddies at play'. Now he was sat in the stuffy courtroom, one he had frequented as a pupil himself, he deeply regretted not stopping to pick up a coffee on his way; the case was dull, the pupils were duller, and he was thirsty.

Shifting in his seat, he eased his mobile from his pocket and checked the time; only four minutes later than when he last looked at his watch. He sighed, flicked through Twitter and the BBCNews app and eventually locked the screen again after finding nothing to hold his attention.

Another three minutes of trying to concentrate on the less than stellar performance of the male pupil, Clive reached for his phone again. His thumb hovered over the Angry Birds app before he decided against playing the stupidly addictive game and he scrolled back to the home screen, selecting the messaging icon and opening the conversation at the top of the list, simply named M. The most recent message was one he had sent an hour earlier, bemoaning his fate for the afternoon.

 _Bloody billy sending me to spy on pupils. Not sure when I'll be back in chambers, mid afternoon maybe. You ok?_

Having not received a reply, he tapped out another message and hit send.

 _Dying of boredom. How's chambers? Any news or gossip from the weekend?_

Another seven minutes passed, during which the defendant appeared and made Clive's ears ache with his accent, and there was still no reply, so he wrote a new message.

 _Surely your paperwork can't be more interesting than my messages/impending death?! Or are you ignoring my attempts at distraction and self amusement?_

The man sitting two seats to Clive's left frowned at him, just stopping short of tutting at his phone use; biting back a more sarcastic return, Clive mouthed "Work," and shrugged in a vague manner before looking away. It wasn't technically a lie, he reasoned with himself, the person he was texting was a colleague. Who just happened to be his girlfriend.

Becoming steadily more bored as time went on, Clive's texts continued; the was case progressing as slowly as the second hand on his watch and he had long since given up on his task of watching the pupils in order to report back to Alan on their performance.

 _Normal conversation a poor method of distraction? Take 2. are we going home before going out this eve? There were def things we didn't finish this morning ;-)_

 _As much as I like watching you get dressed every morning, I far prefer undressing you._

 _Pushing your jacket off, letting your skirt fall to the floor, uncovering you as I unbutton your shirt..._

 _Kissing you pressed against the front door because we can't wait any longer. clothes left in the hallway. only making it as far as the sofa and pulling you down on my lap..._

Clive periodically looked up from his phone screen, keeping up the pretence of watching what was happening in the courtroom below even though he had no idea about what was going on. Deciding that he ought to pay a modicum of attention to the case and pupils, he closed the messaging app on his phone, hauled his mind away from exactly what he wanted to do when he and Martha got home, and tuned in to what was being asked by the magistrate.

Less than ten minutes later he had grown bored again and pressed his thumb against the unlock button on his iPhone, the screen lighting up to display one message. Disappointingly, it was from his sister, not Martha, and he dutifully replied, saying yes they would both be attending his nephew's tenth birthday party the coming weekend. Once that message had sent, he exited the conversation and opened Martha's again, tapping his thumb against the side of his phone case as he thought over his next message, mind easily slipping away from the courtroom once more.

 _My hands sliding up your legs, past the tops of your stockings and squeezing your arse as you pull my shirt off_

 _I want to undress you completely except your stockings, be able to see and touch all of you_

Unsure whether Martha was ignoring her phone, his texts or actually waiting to see how far he would take the messages, Clive typed a few more words in a new message before deciding to wait at least a few more minutes to see if a reply would be forthcoming.

 _I like it when you take control kneeling over me_

He locked his phone again but left it sitting on his leg so he would be able to see if any messages came through, and turned his attention back to the scene in front of him. Natalie, the female pupil who had not managed to make much of an impression in the 6 months she had been at Shoe Lane, was stuttering her way through what seemed to be some very random questions for the defendant. Clive sighed. He was fairly sure that neither he nor Martha, nor a reasonable amount of their friends and colleagues, had ever been quite so useless in the courtroom, and resolved to let her pupil master know there was a lot left to learn.

/

Martha sighed and sank back down on the bench, relieved to have got the opening speech out of the way.

Just after lunch Alan had appeared in her office looking harassed and had practically thrown a manila file at her and begged her to cover his bail application and hearing because his current murder trial had over run. Having promised him she would do her best, he had disappeared and Martha had been left to flick through the file, only to realise that she had an hour to meet the client and work out what needed to be done before standing up in the RCJ. She didn't expect to be in court all afternoon, but the case seemed slightly more complex than a usual bail application because the client had significant learning difficulties, which made the whole process more lengthy.

One ear on the prosecuting barrister, Peter Oakes, she jotted a couple of notes on the front of the file and then glanced at her phone to check the time, discovering a list of new messages from Clive as she did so. With a frown, she unlocked her phone and tapped to open the conversation thread, mildly concerned at the amount of texts because he rarely sent more than a quick one line message. Her eyes widened as she scanned the white speech bubbles on the screen and by the time she had read the last message, time stamped thirteen minutes ago, she could no longer supress a breath that came out in a choking sound.

Two rows in front, the judge held his hand up, halting the prosecution mid-flow.

"Miss Costello? Are you alright?"

Martha coughed and hastily picked up a bottle of water, sipping steadily at the liquid in an attempt to give herself a few moments to compose herself.

"Yes, thank you Your Honour," she coughed again, "Sorry".

He nodded and offered her a smile before flicking his hand once again to the barrister on the opposite side of the courtroom.

Once the judge's attention was firmly on Peter, she tapped her phone screen and the keyboard appeared, allowing her to hastily send her own message in reply and then lock the phone and turn it face down on the desk.

 _in the rcj clive_

/

The three magistrates were standing to retire and discuss the case they had heard, and Clive, anxious not to be caught in discussions with the two pupils, vacated the public gallery as soon as they had left. He knew there was a Starbucks on the road opposite the court and decided to spend the half an hour break there with a sandwich, rather than the dire looking coffee shop attached to the courts.

Standing at the crossing and waiting for the lights to change in his favour, Clive pulled his phone from his pocket and hastily opened his one new message. As he read the short text, he groaned, "Fuck".

It was the exact opposite to the reply he had been hoping for, although he reasoned as he quickly crossed the road, she hadn't told him to shut up or stop, and in his mind, that meant any further messages might garner the anticipated response, even if it wasn't until later on. Clive cast his mind back to that morning when they had been discussing their upcoming days over breakfast, and was certain that Martha had said she only had a quick meeting in the morning and then a day full of paperwork preparation for a case at the end of the month. He realised she must have either been given a very late return or had picked something up for someone else, and because he had been out of chambers for most of the day, he hadn't known.

After selecting a sandwich and a cup of tea, Clive took a seat in the corner of the shop and alternated between eating his late lunch and composing a couple of a new messages; while he was slightly hopeful for a reply, he was mostly enjoying the teasing and one-way flirting the messages afforded him.

 _but are you wearing stockings? ;-)_

 _I want you to tease me, hands trapped, I can only kiss the skin I can reach_

For the rest of the break from court, Clive flicked through a newspaper that a previous Starbucks customer had left behind on the table, and studiously ignored his phone.

By the time he was crossing the road and heading into the courtroom for some more Billy-enforced boredom, his messages were still without response and so he fired off one more text before going inside and forcing himself to concentrate on the verdict from the Magistrates so he could at least report which pupil had done better overall.

 _I want you_

/

Queuing for a coffee before returning to the robing room, Martha dared look at her phone again, deciding she was safely out of the way of anyone else. Amongst the three more messages from Clive, her screen showed two missed calls and a voicemail from Alan, which she thought it better to deal with first.

Having listened to his voicemail, she called Alan back and briefly filled him in on how the bail application had gone; he was pleased she had been able to convince the judge that bail was the right thing for the client, and then admitted that his murder was still on-going due to some new evidence and maybe she would have to keep the case if he couldn't. Martha reluctantly agreed; having finished a slow GBH case the previous week, she hadn't picked up anything big enough to stop her being able to take on Alan's case yet.

Coffee in hand, she steadily climbed the stairs to the robing room and flicked to the new messages from Clive, wondering what other texts he had come up with. Slightly prepared for what vein the messages would be in, she was less shocked than she had been when she had read his first ones, but still surprised that he had carried on after she had told him where she was.

Martha noted that the most recent message had been sent seventeen minutes previously and assumed that he had either given up or had had to concentrate on whatever was going on the in courtroom Billy had sent him to. As she shrugged her robes off, she contemplated what she could write in reply and how much she wanted to play back to his flirting before going back to the office.

 _you know I am_

 _Mm, I think you made that fairly obvious clive_

There was no reply by the time she had hung her robes up and shut her locker and so she tucked her phone into her pocket and left the robing room, planning a slow walk and cigarette on her way back to chambers.

Once outside, she paused to light a cigarette and checked her phone; deciding Clive was probably still caught up watching the pupils in court, she quickly sent another message before joining the steady flow of people on the pavement.

 _I'm done now, could bunk off early if you're allowed_

Reaching the top of Middle Temple Lane, Martha paused, debating whether to go back into chambers or kill five minutes buying another coffee and waiting to see if Clive replied. The choice of going home to meet him was far preferable than going back to work, but, she reasoned, if he was going to be another hour, she could at least fill the time in chambers instead of loitering around one of their flats.

/

All three Magistrates were fairly elderly and extremely slow talkers, which didn't enamour them to Clive at all, and having been concentrating on what they had been saying for the better part of twenty-five minutes, he decided his time would be better spent checking his phone. Sliding the item from his pocket, he was surprised to see he had a message and it was actually from the person he had been hoping for reply from. He opened the messaging app and quickly read the three texts that had come through while he had actually been doing what he was supposed to be, and promptly cursed himself, realising he could have probably skipped out on going back into court. Tuning back into the courtroom, Clive noticed that the first magistrate was still speaking, and the other two still had to give their opinions; he sighed, checked the time and made the decision to leave. The pupils would never know how long he had stayed, and he felt that he had seen enough of their performances to be able to tell Billy and Alan how they were getting on.

 _done. where are you? like my plans then?_

 _come to mine?_

He tucked his phone away and, as subtly as possible, slipped out of the public gallery and into the corridor with a sigh of relief. Having left his bike helmet and jacket behind the security desk, he called in to retrieve them before leaving the building and taking up residence on a bench to check his phone again. Martha hadn't replied and so he fired off one last message before swapping his suit jacket for his leather one and making his way to where he had parked his bike.

 _Biking home. see you there ;-)_

 _/_

By the time Martha was waiting for her coffee to be made and handed over, her phone had gone off three times and she couldn't help but laugh to herself at the messages; Clive clearly had no plans for either of them to do any more work. She sent him a brief reply and collected her drink to take out and started walking briskly in the direction of her car, hoping she wouldn't meet anyone who wanted to stop and chat along the way.

 _they sound alright :-p on my way_


End file.
